


The Things We Laid

by LaLainaJ



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Caroline-centric, Ensemble Cast, F/M, Rescue Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 21:22:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5555831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLainaJ/pseuds/LaLainaJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Caroline finally goes looking for Klaus (ahead of schedule, at at Damon's behest) she can't find him. What she does find makes her uncomfortable, and she can't resist digging further...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things We Laid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [willowaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowaus/gifts).



> This is kind of a riff on some of the spoilers that are out (minus any and all magical babies!). Certain TO things are alluded to (the less crappy ones, ie Marcel), but only vaguely and in a minor way, so I hope that's cool. Jess, you are kind of an insanely good writer, one of the first I read when I got into Klaroline so I was mega intimidated when I read your name! But I had a great time with this story, so thanks for that!
> 
> Was listening to Silversun Pickups while writing so the title is from 'Future Foe Scenarios'

There’s a gift, waiting for Caroline, when she arrives back at her apartment, tipsy and disheveled. She’d finished college that afternoon, walked across the stage and shook the Dean’s hand as she'd accepted her diploma. She’d been proud of the accomplishment, relieved that her days of early morning lectures were behind her (at least for now). There'd also been a tiny bit sadness, lurking in the back of her mind, because neither of her parents had been there to see her do it.

Bonnie and Enzo had made it back to town for her graduation, so Caroline had pushed the gloomier thoughts away, determined to make the day a celebration. She’d cajoled (and maybe thrown a little guilt at) Bonnie and Enzo until they'd agreed to dancing and drinks.

Many, many, many drinks.

She’d had to ditch her heels, when they’d left the club, because it would be extra embarrassing to fall on her face, since she was a vampire, technically in possession of both superior reflexes and ability to metabolize liquor.

Enzo never let things like that go, the smug jerk face.

Stumbling across her front hallway, still dressed in the rented (okay maybe it’s stolen at this point. But Caroline liked her mementos!) robe she’d graduated in, it takes her bleary eyes a few moments to focus on the package sitting in her living room. The one that definitely hadn’t been there when Caroline had left that afternoon.

It’s large, wrapped in heavy gold paper, and cream colored cloth ribbon.

Her breath catches, because she knows who it’s from. Had known the second she’d set eyes on it.

Partially because all her other friends had already given her gifts, of varying degrees of thoughtfulness (thanks Damon, for the gross, opened, bottle of old man booze. Not).

But mostly because leaving sneaky, fancy, presents was very much his thing.

She moves closer, runs a fingertip over the perfectly tied bow, fingers itching to tear into it. But she tells herself no, she’s an adult, totally capable of a little impulse control. She plucks the card from the top, and sits down on her couch.

She takes a deep breath, before slicing the envelope open.

_Milestones should be commemorated._

_Congratulations, Caroline._

_Something to take with you, on a new journey._

It’s not signed, though Caroline would recognize the elegant script anywhere, despite only having seen it a few times.

She’s not sure if he’s being arrogant, expecting that she’ll know the gift is from him, or if he’s leery of her reaction to him contacting her, after the last time they’d spoken, when he’d promised to let her go, and live her life, without interference.

He'd implied that it would be up to her, to reach out, if she ever wanted to see him again.

In Caroline’s most private thoughts she’d always assumed that she would, someday. Maybe not for the promise of last love, at first. She thought it would take a good, long while, for her to be ready for something like that, for a forever kind of love.

But that wasn’t the only offer he’d ever made. There was an earlier one, more tentative and almost shy, that she could see herself taking Klaus up on. ‘Friends, then?’ he’d asked, Tyler’s freedom offered, to show his sincerity. Caroline could see herself tracking him down, to see if that one was still on the table, long before she was ready to consider a happily ever after.

Someday she was going to need someone to see her as more than a sidekick, more than a stepping stone or cannon fodder. When she was ready to let go of trying to blend in and be human, because she knew that she’d have to, that she’d want to, at some point. Caroline was far too aware of how well she’d taken to vampirism. She felt the rightness of it in her bones. She loved it too much to think that she'd be happy stifling that side of herself for her entire existence.

Becoming a vampire had made her better. But Caroline liked to be the best. And she knew she could still be more then what she was right now.

And Klaus had seen that. Had believed that, long before Caroline had an inkling.

She sets the card aside, carefully, not wanting to risk smudging the message.

And then she’s reaching for the present, strips of paper flying under her eager hands.

She takes a step back, once she's ripped all the boxes open. He’d sent her luggage. Deep brown leather, butter soft and durable looking. Several pieces, big and small. Pretty much whatever she’d possibly need, wherever she could think to go.

It’s not a subtle gesture, but then Klaus had never bothered with those.

Something Caroline appreciates more, in hindsight. There was something to be said for not having to guess when a guy wanted you, not having to drive yourself crazy reading between the lines and looking for clues.

She remembers scoffing at Klaus, at his offers to take her places, show her the world. At his certainty that Mystic Falls wouldn’t be able to hold her.

But she’s quiet now, contemplative, staring at his gift, the words he’d written, rolling through her mind.

College had taken five years (something that high school Caroline, with her detailed plans, would have cringed at) and might have taken longer, if not for a little compulsion and a lot of late nights.

The professors at Whitmore were far less forgiving then her teachers at Mystic Falls High had been, and supernatural dramas hadn’t stopped popping up at inconvenient times, like when she had a paper due, or a final exam to study for.

Bonnie had dropped out three quarters of the way through her third year, too focused on Operation: Wake Up Elena Before Damon Completely Loses It, to give her classes the attention they required.

Caroline was occasionally suckered in, but there wasn’t a whole lot she could do, as a newish vampire. And she’d gotten better at saying ‘No’ after a disastrous meetup with some super creepy witches in Arizona had ended with Caroline having to grow the skin of her face back after it had been vervained off, and Damon less a few fingers.

Yeah, she’d be giving the southwestern US a wide berth, for at least a few decades.

She’s ventured beyond Virginia and the surrounding states, mostly on quests for information about the curse Elena was under, but she’d still never made it out of the continental United States, and Caroline can’t think of another person in her acquaintance who can say the same.

It’s not something she lets herself dwell on. Because then she’d probably get uber depressed about how freaking pathetic that is.

She had planned on kicking a job search into high gear, starting tomorrow, and giving adulthood, bills and nine to five, a try.

But right at this second Caroline can’t think remember why she’d thought that was a good idea. Why her goals were still so very human, and kind of boring, at that.

She’s got a decent amount of money, thanks to her parent’s life insurance policies, and the sale of her childhood home, and her father’s cabin. She can’t live off of it forever (and one of these days she’s going to have to figure out Investing For Your Never Ending Life 101), but she could for a little while, a few years even, easily.

And what would stop her from finding a job, if she traveled? Something temporary, where she’d meet people, and have fun, and flit away when she got bored or restless?

It kind of chafed, the idea of not having a plan. But life had thrown giant, soul crushing, curveballs at all Caroline’s carefully thought out ideas of what her life would be like, so maybe trying something new was the way to go?

Caroline bit her lip, her stomach suddenly a ball of nervous anxiety. Was she really going to do this?

Twenty-seven hours later she was on a flight bound for Lisbon.

She sent a postcard, to the return address that had been on the luggage, before she left. A thank you, and an ‘Any tips about Spain?’ scrawled across the back. It was polite, to acknowledge the gift. And what was the worst that could happen, Caroline had thought, if she opened up the lines of communication?

But Caroline never heard a peep from Klaus.

She told herself her disappointment was silly. But that didn’t change the fact that it was there.

* * *

She’s awoken by a ringing sound, an unfamiliar one. Caroline buries her head in the pillow, willing the shrill noise to stop. Had she brought someone home last night? And if so, didn’t they know it was really freaking rude _not_ to let your host sleep in?

It stops, and she relaxes against her bed with a relieved sigh. But the respite is unmercifully brief, and before she can even consider going back to sleep the shrill tone is once again echoing through her small apartment.

Caroline sits up, her hair a disastrous cloud around her face. Sweeping it away, she glares around the room, but finds she’s alone.

And then it hits her that it is actually her phone making the racket, just not her day to day one. It’s the one she rarely uses, but leaves plugged into an outlet, just in case. The Mystic Falls Bat Signal phone.

It’s been a long time since she’s spoken to anyone from home on it. More than a year. She gets occasional emails from Matt, mostly pictures of his wife and daughter. She Skypes with Bonnie, every couple of weeks, and it’s weird to see her face, maturing where Caroline’s will always stay the same.

No one calls her on this phone, unless something big has happened, and big usually means bad. Caroline’s body feels heavy, weighted with dread as she listens to it blare.

The phone stops, only to start up again, intensifying Caroline’s unease. Whoever it is would give up, wouldn’t they, if this was minor? Tossing back the covers, she crosses the room and snatches up the old cell phone, tapping the screen to take the call, and bringing it to her ear, “Hello?”

“Blondie,” Damon’s usual pompousness, that she hasn’t missed, oozes over the line. “How’s Europe treating you?”

Caroline let’s out an aggravated grumble, shifting from foot to foot on her too cold concrete floor, “What do you want, Damon?” she snaps impatiently. “Do you even know what time it is here?”

He doesn’t deign to apologize, for waking her, but his next words are disarmingly sober, for him. “Bonnie figured out how to lift the spells on Elena. You need to come back. Immediately.”

It’s a demand, and Caroline is less then pleased about it, “That’s great and all, but why do I have to be there?”

“Because she’s your best friend, and she’ll want to see you?” Damon replies, in that familiar, condescending, rage inducing, tone of his.

Caroline grits her teeth, forces herself not to bite back. Of course Damon would expect her to drop her life, and go rushing back to Mystic Falls, because clearly Elena needs every available hand to coddle her after her really long nap.

“I’ll think about it,” is what Caroline says, as nicely as she can manage, before hanging up and turning the ringer off without giving Damon a chance to reply.

Caroline briefly considers climbing back into bed, but sleep will elude her, her brain furiously working over the new information. Instead she grabs her laptop, and sends Bonnie a message.

Her friend’s face is on her screen a few moments later, looking tired and apologetic. “Damon wasn’t supposed to call you, but he got impatient.”

Caroline puts a hand to her chest, gasping dramatically, “Damon? I never!”

Bonnie giggles softly, “He’s only gotten worse. Maybe it’s an age thing?”

It’s an Elena thing, coupled with Damon’s obsessive personality, and they both know it. But there’s no point in bemoaning it. Caroline cuts to the chase, to the thing that’s been nagging at her, “Is this safe, Bon? For you, I mean. Elena wanted you to live, and if this is going to hurt you…”

Bonnie’s shaking her head, “No. I’ll be fine. Kai was, to be super blunt, completely full of shit. There’s always a loophole, and all my research has confirmed that. He just layered the spells in such a way to make it harder to find. I know I can get around them.”

Bonnie’s eyes are serious, her expression firm. Caroline studies her, for several long moments, before she nods. “Okay. If you’re sure. When does all this go down?”

“Eleven days. The next full moon.”

Caroline rolls her eyes, holds back a giggle. “Right. Of course. When else? You witches and your moon weirdness.”

Bonnie shrugs, her eyes amused, “Hey, I don’t make the rules.”

They say goodbye, and Caroline grabs a pad of paper, and makes a list, resigned to the fact that she’s going to do what Damon wants. Not for him, and not even really for Elena. She assumes, that once awakened, Elena will be exactly as she’d been before, and that the center of her universe would still be Damon Salvatore, all other people inconsequential.

No, Caroline’s going for Bonnie. She’s never agreed with Bonnie putting so much into trying to wake Elena up, into putting her life on hold, the one even Elena had wanted her to live, in pursuit of the goal. She’s not sure what’ll happen after, but she figures she can offer a few tips, about how to move on.

Maybe Bonnie will come back to Europe with her, finally give in to Caroline’s nagging. They can see the sights, meet cute boys and eat great food, while Bonnie decides on her next step.

Caroline has no idea how long she’ll need to be in Virginia for, and she has been thinking about moving on to a new city lately. It’s been just about eight months, in this one, her longest stay yet, so Caroline thinks it’ll be easier to just pack everything up and store it.

She’s become surprisingly good at traveling light.

One suitcase for clothes (the leather now slightly weathered, and somehow even better looking for it), and a small box for the journals she’d been keeping, at Elena’s behest.

Caroline doesn’t sleep, not a wink, on the long flight over the Atlantic.

She’s not sure if she’s ready to go home, to the sights and smells and faces. To the painful memories, even though they’ve softened with time and distance.

At least she’ll mostly be spared Mystic Falls. She won’t have to see her old house, or the police station, or The Grill. She can’t exactly show her face, too many people in the small town will recognize her, ask questions. Bonnie still lives there, and The Salvatore’s occasionally lurk around the boardinghouse, careful not to be seen, since Elena’s body remains in the tomb under Fell’s Church for safe keeping.

Caroline assumes she’ll have to go to where Elena is, but the forest around Mystic Falls holds more fond memories then depressing ones.

Stefan’s waiting for her, when she steps into the bright afternoon sunlight, leaning against a pillar with dark sunglasses on. Caroline smiles, and forces him into a hug, laughing at the way he stiffens and awkwardly pats her back.

It was nice that some things would never change.

He takes the box of journals off her hands, leads her to his car. He doesn’t immediately start interrogating her, which Caroline appreciates. Living on her own, for years, has been good for her, in a lot of ways. Sometimes she’s lonely, yes. But she’s become more comfortable with silences, more sure of herself.

She turns the radio to some bright happy pop tune, smirking to herself at Stefan’s pained expression. She hums along, as scenery flashes past the window. She’s surprised when the journey’s short, when Stefan pulls a driveway, and cuts the engine in front of a modest blue split level on the outskirts of Richmond.

Stefan answers her questioning look, “We’re trying to stay out of Mystic Falls as much as possible. We have no idea what the state of things are, if the council is a factor. Too many familiar faces might screw things up, make people suspicious.”

Caroline nods in understanding, but is distracted when the door to the house is thrown open, and Enzo leans against the doorjamb, grinning down at her. She lets out a squeal, and pelts out of the car, throwing herself at him. He’d come out to see her, two years ago, ended up staying almost six months, sleeping on her couch and exploring London with her, telling her stories about himself as a human. He’s never quite mastered email, Enzo, so she’s never entirely sure what he’s up to. But she does know that he’s not fond of Elena, so she hadn’t expected to find him here.

Enzo returns her hug, and he’s better at it then Stefan, despite his comparative lack of opportunity to practice. He lets her go, murmurs, “Hello, Gorgeous,” with a smirk.

She smacks his arm, “I had no idea you’d be here!”

She sees Damon, ambling down the hallway of the house behind them, a tumbler of bourbon in hand, and he speaks before Enzo can answer year, “Yeah, yeah. The gang’s all here. It’s very exciting. But we’ve got work to do, kids.”

Stefan brushes past her, her suitcase in his hand, “I’ll put these in a guest room. There are blood bags in the kitchen. Still a B+ fan?”

She mostly drinks from the vein, healing and compelling, but she feels kind of guilty, telling Stefan that. So she just flashes him a smile, chirps out a, “Yep! Thanks!” and follows him into the house.

Enzo looks amused, well aware of her more traditional feeding habits, and also like he’s about to make a dig at Stefan about it, so she cuts him off, returning to her earlier question, “And not that I’m not glad to see you, but why are you here? How long have you been here?”

“Just got in last night. Damon sent me on a little recon mission. And I am very much looking forward to another of our road tripping adventures, darling.”

She shoots him a quizzical look, not entirely sure what he means, but Damon again interrupts, stepping between them and pointing towards a staircase, “Upstairs second door on the right, Blondie. Go wash off the plane stink. Bonnie will be here in half an hour. She’s bringing Chinese.”

Caroline narrows her eyes at Damon’s blandly accommodating expression. She knows a deflection when she sees one, and she can’t help but wonder if he’d demanded she return for something other than Elena’s awakening, if he’s playing the good host to butter her up.

It wouldn’t be the first time Damon thought he could use her for his own gain.

But Enzo doesn’t seem uneasy, and she trusts in his loyalty, doesn’t think he would sacrifice her in a heartbeat, like Damon would.

So with one last suspicious glare, she mounts the stairs, calling over her shoulder, “Might take me longer than that. Leave me some egg rolls!”

* * *

 

Later, a plate of food in her lap, Caroline listens carefully, when Bonnie and Damon go over the details of what’ll happen the night of the full moon. She almost wants to take notes, but as she’d suspected, her presence isn’t really needed for that part. Bonnie’s got the magic stuff handled, Stefan and Damon are more than capable of doing the heavy lifting.

Enzo’s role is unclear too. He remains quiet, inhaling a small mountain of fried rice as they talk.

And something’s off, with Damon. Stefan, too. Neither let their eyes focus on her, for too long. When they’ve finished talking, and everyone’s fallen silent Caroline turns to Enzo and asks, “So? Tell me more about this recon mission.”

She catalogues reactions out of the corner of her eye. Damon’s carefully blank, Stefan vaguely guilty, and Bonnie looks confused.

Enzo sits up, his leg falling from where it had been crossed over his knee, “Took a little trip down south to try to look up an old friend of yours.”

Caroline’s brows shoot up, and she pins Damon with a scathing look, “Really? We’re back to this? After all these years?”

“What did you do, Damon?” Bonnie asks, resignation dripping from the words.

He doesn’t look the least bit guilty, under all their stares, when he holds up his hands, “People came after Elena before, because of Klaus and his doppelgänger obsession. Who’s to say more won’t pop out of the woodwork? And I can’t exactly fight them off, when I’m…”

“A weak, defenseless, human?” Caroline finishes for him. “Afraid someone older, and stronger, then you will take a bite, Damon?”

He looks as close to uncomfortable as she’s ever seen him then, shifting restlessly under her accusing gaze. “What was your plan, exactly?” she spits out. “And why send Enzo?”

Damon opens his mouth, but Enzo speaks, drawing her attention, “When was the last time you heard from your hybrid paramour?” he asks, curiously.

“Just after I finished college,” Caroline answers. “Why?”

Her initial disappointment over his lack of response had only deepened, if she’s being entirely honest. He’d said he’d never come back, but she’d wondered if he’d bend his promise, and reach out when she’d left the country. She’d thought of him in Paris, in Rome, and at several points in between. Each time she’d unpacked in a new city, ready to explore.

But she’d heard nothing from him, in all the years she’d been gone.

“He’s not in New Orleans,” Enzo tells her, interrupting her pensive thoughts.

“So?” Caroline shrugs, unconcerned. “He liked to travel. Maybe he got bored.”

Maybe,” Enzo says, though he seems doubtful. “But from what I gathered he didn’t leave willingly, if he left at all.”

That certainly sounded ominous, and a hint of unease tugs at Caroline’s brain. “Start from the beginning,” she demands. “Don’t leave anything out.”

Damon mutters something about General Barbie, but Caroline ignores him, and Enzo takes her abruptness in stride, leaning back and beginning to talk.

He speaks of the number of vampires who inhabited the New Orleans, the lavish parties, how blood ran freely. How he’d been taken to meet the king, how he’d expected to come face to face with Klaus, but had instead shaken the hand of a man named Marcel.

Marcel, Enzo said, was all easy charm and assessing eyes. The life of the party and also the sort who micromanaged. He’d only relaxed after Enzo had made it clear that he was only passing through, that he’d never been to New Orleans, and thought it was time he experienced it.

“How old is he?” Caroline had asked.

“Around two hundred, according to the witch I… charmed.”

Caroline had made a disgusted noise, echoed by Bonnie. She’s witnessed Enzo’s version of charm, had no desire to hear a play by play, so she brushed past it, “Is she the one who told you about Klaus?”

“Eventually. It’s apparently a touchy subject. There are a lot of covens, in the city, and some weren’t happy that Marcel took back the throne.”

“Took back?” Caroline questioned, ignoring the urge to roll her eyes at the use of ‘throne.’

“Mmm. Your lover boy took it first. Ruled with an iron fist, for a number of years. And then something happened, some kind of vampire battle, and he was gone, his brother and sister too. Marcel neatly picked up the pieces. My little witch friend got a bit squirrelly when I tried to press for details. So I didn’t, since I was told to be discrete.”

Caroline drums her fingers on the arm of her chair, when Enzo’s done, considering the new info. She can’t imagine Klaus walking away from something like that quietly, from someone trying to take what he considered his. He wasn’t the type to admit defeat gracefully, something they had in common.

“Hey, look on the bright side. He can’t be dead, if we’re not dead!” Damon says, lifting his glass in a mocking toast.

“Shut up, Damon,” Bonnie admonishes, sounding tired, before Caroline can.

Caroline decides to ignore him entirely. She can’t let this be without checking it out, she knows that in her gut. Too many things seem wrong. She focuses on Enzo again, raising a questioning brow, “So, about that road trip…”

Enzo nods, and grins, leaning back in his seat, “Ready when you are, gorgeous.”

* * *

 

She leaves the journals, tells Bonnie to let Elena know what Caroline’s doing and that she loves her, just in case she doesn’t make it back in time, and takes the suitcase she hadn’t bothered unpacking. They’re taking Enzo’s car, and Caroline can only hope that his driving has vastly improved, since the first time they took one of these trips.

Really, if a car crash had been able to kill her she never would have gotten into a vehicle with him back then. He’s had years to practice, so she’s got her fingers crossed.

Especially since Bonnie’s coming with them, for the first leg of the trip.

Caroline had slept last night, more out of necessity than anything else, so she feels clear headed, and impatient, waiting in the driveway, for Enzo and Bonnie to hurry up and get their butt’s outside.

She has the beginnings of a plan, but she also has more questions, things she’d rather not ask in front of Damon, things she needs to know before she figures out how to proceed.

First stop: the Mikaelson’s place in Mystic Falls, where they’ve hopefully left behind something Bonnie can work her witchy juju on.

Caroline leans into the open driver’s side window, and presses on the horn, until the front door opens and Bonnie hurries out, looking annoyed, “Alright, alright. Geez, Caroline,” she complains, climbing into the backseat.

Enzo follows shortly after, and holds up his hand expectantly. Caroline reluctantly tosses him the keys, “Be careful, Enzo. I mean it. And Bonnie. Wear your seatbelt. Maybe do some kind of cushioning spell. Is that a thing?”

“In Harry Potter,” Bonnie mutters, but Caroline hears her strapping herself in.

“I’m offended in your lack of faith in me, Caroline. I thought we were friends,” Enzo huffs, laying a hand over his chest and looking wounded.

“We are friends,” Caroline shoots back. “And as your friend, it’s my job to gently tell you when you suck at things.”

“She’s never quite figured out the gentle part,” Bonnie chimes in, shooting Caroline a grin in the mirror.

“See? Right there. Totally friendly, helpful criticism. Thanks, Bon. I love you, too.”

They’re laughing, as they pull out of the driveway. And Caroline can almost forget, for a minute, that the purpose of this journey isn’t fun and games.

She rolls down her window, and closes her eyes. She keeps them closed, when she asks her next question, “What isn’t Damon telling me, Enzo?”

Enzo’s silent, for a long moment. “He wasn’t sure if we should tell you. About Klaus disappearing. Thought it might solve the doppelgänger problem, if he was just gone.”

Caroline grits her teeth, unsurprised but still annoyed. Because didn’t Damon always think he knew best? “And he decided against that because…” she wonders pointedly.

“He figured it was better the devil he already knew. And I told him that you’d go looking for Klaus, on your own, sooner or later. And that I’d tell you, what I’d found, because you deserved to know, no matter what.”

She hears shifting, in the backseat, and Bonnie’s voice is closer, when she speaks, her head between the front seats, “Would you have?” she asks, sounding surprised.

Caroline considers lying, but quickly decides against it. She hasn’t lived her life for other’s approval for a long time, and she likes it that way. She’s not about to start doing it again. “Sooner or later,” Caroline answers, bracing herself for judgement.

But Bonnie only makes a noise, considering, and low in her throat, before sitting back.

Caroline finally opens her eyes, and spins, to peer into the backseat, “That’s it? A grumble? That’s all I get?”

“Yep,” Bonnie answers simply.

“Seriously?” Caroline asks, incredulously.

A smile splits Bonnie’s face, and she shakes her head. “We’re not kids anymore, Caroline. You’ve been living a completely separate life, far away. If you’d looked up Klaus, I’d never have even known, if you didn’t want me to. And I don’t like that. So I’m not going to tell you all the reasons that I hate Klaus, all the ones you already know, and push you farther away.”

She feels guilty, like she needs to apologize, and maybe Bonnie senses it, because she keeps talking, “And I’m not trying to guilt trip you, Caroline. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“She’s not happy,” Enzo mutters, eyes focused on the road.

“Excuse you,” Caroline begins, ready to tell him off, because she was perfectly fine, thank you very much.

“Oh, come on, save the righteous indignation. I’m not saying you’re miserable, and you’re probably better off, away from the Save Elena Gilbert coalition, but you’re not happy. Not really.”

She wants to argue, wants to tell them about all the beautiful places she’s seen, the amazing things she’d done. But they both know her, better than just about anyone. She wouldn’t even be lying exactly. But they’d see through it. See what Caroline refused to admit, that for all that she’s enjoyed her adventures, they haven’t been truly fulfilling.

And Caroline’s so not in the mood to justify her life choices.

She faces forward, crosses her arms, and briskly changes the subject. “Whatever. So the plan is we hit up the Mikaelson’s big ol’ house, and Bonnie kills any magical booby traps. We raid the house for things that she can use, to get us a location. Sound good?”

Both of the car’s occupants murmur agreeably, and they lapse into silence, until it’s time to direct Enzo to the path to the Mikaelson’s former home. The drive is overgrown, foliage having largely overtaken the gravel, so it’s a bumpy ride, and Caroline grips the handle above the door.

Enzo whistles through his teeth, as the house comes into view. It’s impressive, even if it’s been neglected. “Swanky,” he proclaims.

“Yeah, they weren’t really into understated,” Bonnie agrees.

Caroline doesn’t like the use of past tense there, but she bites her tongue, as the car comes to a stop, hoping out before Enzo turns off the ignition.

Bonnie follows quickly, taking cautious steps towards the mansion, “There is definitely a spell on this place.”

Caroline figured. Klaus wasn’t really one to leave things to chance.

Bonnie doesn’t wait for any reply, but holds up her hands, her voice dropping and low words Caroline doesn’t understand coming confidently out of her mouth. The air seems to shimmer, for a moment, and Bonnie shudders, taking a deep breath and a half step back.

“Are you good?” Caroline asks, concerned.

“Fine,” Bonnie answers. “It was just a big one.” She rests against the car, and Caroline fishes a water bottle out of her purse, shoving it in Bonnie’s hands and watching until her friend drinks.

Bonnie laughs slightly, knocking her shoulder against Caroline’s. “I’m _fine_ , Caroline. I promise. Go, snoop. I know you like that.”

 She does. But she feels kind of weird about going through Klaus’ things. Even weirder about messing with Rebekah’s. And don’t even get her started on Elijah’s. Caroline really hopes that they’re in some kind of peril, otherwise she’s pretty sure Rebekah will rip her hands off when she finds out about this.

Hell, Rebekah might just do that for fun.

Shaking that thought away, Caroline squares her shoulder’s, steeling herself to go in. Bonnie places a gentle hand on her arm, and Caroline turns to her in question, “Get something of Kol’s too, if you can.”

“Kol?” Caroline repeats, confused. “Kol’s dead.” She remembers _that_ vividly.

“Maybe,” Bonnie says, head tipped to the side. “But when I was the anchor, I could have sworn…” she trails off, shaking her head. “Just grab something. Just in case, okay?”

“Alright,” Caroline agrees, because what could it hurt? She marches up the steps, forces the door open, and walks into the front foyer. She holds in a sneeze, getting a nose full of dust, upon entering, covering her face with her arm and glancing around.

The furniture’s covered in white sheets, and the paintings from the walls are gone. Vases, all of the tasteful knick knacks she remembers are also absent, she assumes either taken with them, when they left, or tucked away. She knows the bedrooms are her best bet, for finding a sufficiently personal item for Bonnie to use, but she’s never been beyond the main floor, so Caroline hesitates, at the staircase. 

She almost jumps, when the door creaks open behind her, but it’s just Enzo. He’s not quick enough, to cover his nose, and he lets out a cough, his face twisting as he tries to wave the dust away, “They couldn’t have sprung for a cleaning service to pop in occasionally?”

Instead of answering, Caroline makes her way upstairs. “Let’s just make this quick. You take the second floor, I’ll take the third.”

“Can do!” Enzo calls out, and Caroline leaves him behind. She holds her breath, as she opens the first door, releases it, when she sees the purple walls, the silver accents, and the airy white canopy on the bed.

Clearly Rebekah’s room.

A quick, but thorough search yields few items. A hairbrush, a tube of lipstick. A scarf, and a book from the nightstand, the pages yellowed and well thumbed.

She shuts the door tightly, when she leaves, walks to the other, at the far end of the hallway.

She knows it’s his, when she opens the door. It’s easily twice the size of Rebekah’s and an archway off to the side reveals an easel, a couple of blank canvases leaning against it.

The colors, the dark wood, the floor to ceiling windows that line one wall. It all feels like Klaus. And Caroline feels incredibly awkward, standing in what was once his space, with him nowhere to be found.

But she’s here for a reason, so she cautiously approaches the bed. She spies something, sticking out from under one of the pillows, reaches out to touch it. She pulls it out gingerly, to reveal a leather bound book, flipping it open she sees sketches. She slams the cover shut, because she was already invading his privacy, best not to go to extremes.

His closet’s not nearly as well cleaned out as Rebekah’s and Caroline grabs a grey Henley, one she remembers him wearing, more than once, opens some of the smaller drawers.

She freezes, at the sight of a familiar velvet box in one. Her hand hovers over it, but she doesn’t take it. It doesn’t seem right, to do so, even if it had been a gift to her, once upon a time.

She does pluck out every necklace, and a watch, even a couple of ties. There’s a knife, of some sort, old looking, tucked in one of the bottom drawers, wooden hilt and tarnished metal blade. She adds that to her pile, before raiding his bathroom.

She’s just exiting, when Enzo pokes his head over the railing, “All done, gorgeous? Can’t have Bonnie out too long. Damon might think we’re stealing her and go mental. Because it would be such a tragedy, if the fair Elena slept for one more month.”

Caroline lets out a derisive snort, “Aw, is someone sad that they’re about to lose their favorite murder buddy?”

Enzo doesn’t answer, but his heavier tread on the stairs as he descends tells Caroline that she might have hit a nerve. She makes a mental note to check up on Enzo, more often, in the future. She might be looking forward to watching Damon age, watching his arrogance take a hit as his prettiness fades (she’s really hoping his hairline recedes early) but Enzo likely feels very differently about the situation, and she needs to remember that.

Some people actually liked Damon Salvatore, even her own mother had. Caroline didn’t get it, but that didn’t make it untrue.

When she gets downstairs Bonnie’s been busy, having lit candles and pushed furniture aside, symbols drawn on the floor. She’s got a map rolled out, and weighted at the corners, a handful of crystals spilled onto it. She’s sorting through various objects, Caroline assumes they’re the belongings Enzo collected, and she adds hers to the pile.

Bonnie barely reacts, selecting items and placing them in the circles she’d made. “You two might want to leave the room,” she tells them, standing and rolling up her sleeves. The candles flare slightly, and Caroline and Enzo exchange a look, before hurrying out.

Caroline paces, in front of the closed door, and Enzo begins lifting sheets, letting out a crow of triumph, when he spots the liquor cart, helping himself to a bottle and a sofa, “Drink?” he offers, shaking the bottle in her direction. “You seem awfully tense.”

“This is a lot of spells. Big spells, in a short amount of time. I don’t want her pushing herself too much,” Caroline frets.

“She can handle it,” Enzo assures Caroline. “What do you think she’s been doing, all these years?”

“Babysitting Damon,” Caroline replies, her resentment clear.

“That,” Enzo agrees. “And also learning magic. She’s studied and practiced and is more than capable, don’t worry.”

Intellectually, Caroline knows that. Bonnie’s mentioned it, more than once. But she can’t help the worry gnawing at her. She keeps pacing, and Enzo lets her, sipping from the bottle and propping his feet up on a table. It’s less than a half hour, before Bonnie emerges. Caroline studies her carefully, for signs of fatigue, but Bonnie looks no worse for wear.

“Any luck?” Caroline asks hopefully.

“Some,” Bonnie answers, her face creasing. She motions for Caroline to enter the room again, and points to the map, which now has several x’s on it. Three in the states, on in Europe, and one in Africa.

Caroline crouches, “Who’s in New Orleans?”

“Kol. And Finn.”

“Ugh. This just gets weirder and weirder.” Caroline’s head turns to Enzo who’d followed her in, “Did you hear anything about them, when you were there?”

“No. But maybe they’re the reason why your Hybrid friend got ousted? Family feud gone awry, perhaps?”

“Finn maybe,” Bonnie says. “He wasn’t exactly on Team Klaus when he was alive. But Kol? I don’t think so. I talked to him, on the other side, once or twice. He told me Klaus was working on a way to get him back.”

Caroline tucks that away, to consider later. She agrees with Bonnie’s assessment. Klaus had a knack for achieving his goals, probably because he didn’t believe in limits, would do whatever it took. If he’d been working on resurrecting Kol he’d succeed, eventually. And Kol would know that. Why would he turn on Klaus, if Klaus was trying to restore him? And Rebekah and Elijah too?

“And this one?” Caroline asks, returning to the map, moving her finger to the other dot, the one in the middle of Wyoming.

“Elijah.”

She’d not known the eldest Original at all, but Middle America didn’t really seem like his scene. More evidence that something sinister had happened.

“Klaus is in Russia, Rebekah in Nigeria, according to the locator spell. I did it twice, just to be sure. Got the same result both times.”

“Would you be able to narrow this down?” Caroline asks, standing up, taking out her phone to take some pictures of the marks Bonnie had made.

“Sure. A better map, a little time. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Good,” Caroline says slowly. “We’ll drop you at your house. We’re going to New Orleans, as planned, to dig a little deeper. Text me when you’ve got something, but don’t push yourself, since we’ll be a couple days. Klaus first though, okay?”

“What’s the plan for The Big Easy?” Enzo asks, raising his eyebrows.

“We’re going to find Kol,” Caroline answers.

Bonnie grimaces, but makes no comment, bending to begin blowing out candles. Enzo merely nods in acceptance, but then he’d never made Kol’s acquaintance, wasn’t familiar with his volatility (or his fondness for inflicting blunt force trauma).

Caroline only hoped that she was making the right call.

* * *

Finding Kol isn’t a problem. Because he finds them.

It’s only just gotten dark, and Enzo’s leading her to the club where he’d initially met Marcel, the one that he’d said had seemed to be the hub of vampire activity in the city.

“Well, well, well,” a lazy drawl sounds from behind them. “If it isn’t Miss Mystic Falls. Aren’t you a bit far from home, darling?”

Caroline whirled, to find a guy she’s never seen before in her life, on the sidewalk behind her. There’s something familiar about the set of his mouth, the tilt of his head. He’s got his hands shoved in his pockets, knowing eyes wandering down her body in a way that’s just shy of creepy.

“As tasty as I remember,” he muses absently, gaze lingering on her legs.

And yep, that had crossed the line.

Enzo moves quickly, shoving the stranger into an alley, his hand around the guy’s throat, lifting him several inches off the ground, despite the fact that he’s a few inches taller than Enzo is.

“Now is that any way to speak to a lady, mate?” Enzo growls, his fingers tightening until the guy lets out a strangled grunt.

“Put him down, Enzo.” Caroline requests, the man’s familiarity, the fact that he _knew_ her, giving her pause.

“You’ve met this cretin then?” Enzo asks curiously.

“Sort of. I think,” Caroline says. She sounds unsure, even to herself, but Enzo relaxes his grip, setting the guy on his feet again.

She steps closer, notes the human heartbeat, the reddening marks on his throat, shaped like Enzo’s fingers. “Are you Kol Mikaelson?” she asks him.

He straightens his jacket, but makes no move to push away from the wall. “Smarter then you look,” he tosses back snidely, his voice gravelly.

Caroline holds up a hand, to stall Enzo from doing something stupid, like smacking Kol (they might have the upper hand, physically, at the moment, but it’s possible that won’t always be true. No need to start something that Kol might want to finish, violently, later on). “Where did you die?” Caroline asks, just to be sure.

“In the doppelgänger’s hovel,” he replies disdainfully. “You covered me with a cheap tablecloth.”

Caroline rocks back a step, “It is you,” she breathes.

She knew that body jumping was possible (Klaus himself had introduced them to the concept) but it was kind of freaky, having Kol, who wasn’t actually Kol, right in front of her.

“Unfortunately,” he gripes. “I now know why Nik only did this for a couple of weeks, at most. It’s awful, being so feeble.”

“How did you come back?” Caroline blurts out. Kol gives her a considering look, and she wonders if she should have kept her mouth shut. It seems like kind of a personal question, and it’s not as though she and Kol are BFFs.

But he answers, tone flippant, “Parting gift from Mother Dearest, sometime after The Otherside collapsed. For years, there was just... nothing. And then here I was. I assume she meant for her and dear old dad to follow, but I don’t think they made it. I haven’t been roped into any evil plans, at least. Finn, of course, got the more powerful witch host, so he’s useless to me, completely obsessed with returning Sage to this world. It’s been years, you’d think he’d have given up by now.”

“She waited for him for a lot longer than a couple of years,” Caroline points out reasonably.

Kol pins her with a derisive look, “Don’t tell me you’re the soppy, romantic type, Caroline.”

She opens her mouth to defend herself (because there’s nothing wrong with appreciating a good love story!) but Enzo speaks up, expression thoughtful, “You’re a witch? That could be useful.”

Kol’s eyes shift to Enzo, turn measuring, “Introduce me to your guard dog, darling.”

Caroline rolls her eyes, “Kol, this is my friend Enzo. Enzo, Kol.”

“And what brings you to here?” he questions. “If you’re looking for Nik, I’m afraid he’s a bit indisposed.”

“I heard,” Caroline says flatly, “It’s why I’m here. I want to know why. And why you’ve done nothing about it.”

“Nik made his bed,” Kol mutters, glancing away. “He didn’t care when I died, why should I go out of my way and mount a rescue mission? For which he’ll surely be completely ungrateful, the wanker.”

“Try again,” Caroline says, watching Kol carefully. “You saw me cover you? You saw him, trapped in that house with your body? You and I both know that he cared.”

Kol seems to waver, looking uncomfortable, before he lets out a sigh, runs an impatient hand through his hair, “This body practices ancestral magic. I’m useless outside the city. I’ve been hanging around, hoping someone would let something slip, but Marcel’s not exactly fond of witches. And I’m not very good at playing a toady. They burned our house down, and everything in it, once Nik was put down. The only thing that survived was the tomb with my body in it, and that’s only because they couldn’t break the enchantments. There was nothing of Nik’s, nor Bekah’s or Elijah’s, for me to use to try and get a direction. And if I left, went to one of our other properties, I can’t work the spell.”

Caroline waves a hand dismissively, “Got that covered. Bonnie’s narrowing it down as we speak.”

Kol’s head tips to the side, something like respect crossing his face, “Hmm. You do get things done, don’t you? Where are we headed next, then?”

“Sochi. But what’s this ‘we’ business?” Caroline shoots back archly.

Kol shrugs, “Do I think three years is a pitiful amount of time for Nik to have been stuck in a hole somewhere, considering all the years I’ve spent daggered? Absolutely. But I want my body back, and I can’t get to it with Marcel in power. Besides, do either of you speak Russian?”

A quick glance at Enzo confirms that no, he does not. So Caroline supposes Kol tagging along wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

“How’d he do it?” Caroline asks. “Take out Klaus, I mean.”

Kol scoffs, “Marcel? He’s just a puppet. The ones who did the dirty work were much older. They spent a long time watching, and planning. Marcel just took advantage of it, took Nik’s place when he saw the opportunity.”

The fact that there’s a far greater threat out there isn’t exactly surprising, nor is it comforting. Caroline had known that had to be the case, if Klaus truly was in trouble. And the smart thing to do would be to step back, but Caroline knows that she can’t. She won’t be able to, and having new, terrifying opponents isn’t exactly a novel experience.

Diving headfirst into danger for her friends is what she does, maybe Klaus didn’t exactly qualify, but she’d always assumed that he would, someday. She’ll think of this like an advance.

But she’ll have to remember to rub all this into Damon’s face later. Because if these vampires who’d taken out Klaus had gotten wind of a human doppelgänger, who knows what they would have done? He’d have had no power, no place to bargain from. Elena would have ended up locked in a room somewhere, Damon dead, Stefan likely taken out with him.

She still can’t believe that he’d thought lying to her about this was a good idea, even for a second. That he thought he had the right, to attempt to keep something huge from her, for his own convenience.

God, maybe it’s terrible, but the more she thinks about it, the happier she is that she’ll only have to deal with him for another few decades.

Caroline tells Kol to pack a bag, and meet them at the airport.

Looks like she’s headed back to Europe.

* * *

It had been a short visit.

Four days later and Caroline’s back on a plane, cruising over the ocean, bound for Mystic Falls.

She’s really racking up the frequent flyer miles.

They’d chartered something, because the heavy coffin they’d dug out of earth and ice, that contains Klaus’ body, isn’t inconspicuous, and Caroline doesn’t trust airline attendants with it. She wasn’t willing to take a chance that it would be somehow losing it in transit.

It’s a calculated risk, going home now, because Rebekah and Elijah are vulnerable, and could very well be moved, by the time Klaus is on his feet again. And it had cost a pretty penny (even with the compulsion encouraged discount) but Caroline knows Klaus is good for it.

They’d debated, she and Kol, whether or not to find a hotel in Sochi, and wake Klaus there. But they had no idea the state his body, in the sealed metal casket, was in, or how long he’d take to heal, and be ready to travel. It was entirely possible that the cavern he’d been in had been spelled, that whoever had put him there would know the second he was out.

And if they had half a brain, they’d know Klaus would be coming for them, as soon as he was able.

Tangling with vampires, nearly as old as The Originals, with only Enzo and a very human Kol at her side, didn’t seem like a great strategy, to Caroline. At least in Mystic Falls they’d have some backup, plus a Bennett witch, while Klaus recovered. The home court advantage might be small, but Caroline would take it.

And she was sure that, even if the other Originals _were_ moved, Klaus would stop at nothing to find them again, and he’d have contacts and resources that Caroline could only dream of, to make it easier.

The private plane has a bedroom, which she’d commandeered, for a little peace.

She’d meant to sleep, but she’s staring at the ceiling, pointedly ignoring the shipping container they’d stashed Klaus’ coffin in.

Enzo and Kol had gone from wary of one another, to sniping viciously, to almost friendly, in the span of a few days. Caroline’s sort of glad that this trip has been all business, because she’s concerned that the two of them would have left irrevocably Russia changed, if they’d had the time. Maybe leveled a few buildings, or defiled a national monument.

And that’s the last thing she needs right now. Because Caroline plans to go back someday, so she couldn’t have them making it so that she couldn’t.

She’s stressed, and she’s worried. And she’s nervous, about seeing Klaus again.

It’s probably stupid, with everything else going on. It hasn’t even been that long, for him. What’s eight years, three of which he’d been pretty much dead to the world, out of more than a thousand?

But it’s more to her. A significant chunk of her relatively short life. She’s changed. Caroline knows it, feels it. She thinks it’s for the better, wonders if Klaus will agree.

Is kind of embarrassed that she cares.

But she’s thought about seeing him again, in idle moments, and this situation is far from anything she’d ever imagined. It makes sense, because who’d have thought that Klaus, the most powerful being on the planet, would ever be in this kind of situation?

Caroline likes her plans, likes to think through courses of action, likes lists and Plan B’s and contingencies. None of that’s changed, and she has nothing of the sort here.

She closes her eyes, when she hears the knock at the door, quickly rolls over and feigns sleep.

“Caroline?”

She does her best imitation of sleepy stirring, and turns towards Enzo. From the look on his face he’s not exactly fooled by her performance, but he doesn’t comment, “We’ll be landing in a half hour. Pilot says you’ve got to come out and take a seat.”

She’s pretty sure it wouldn’t kill her to stay here because being a vampire meant that seatbelts weren’t at all necessary. But that might nudge Enzo into doing what he’s thinking about, and inquiring about her mental state, and that’s just something she’s not prepared to talk about. So Caroline forces herself out of the bed, and shove her feet into her shoes, “Fine. Lead the way. Do we have a ride when we land?”

“Stefan acquired a van, as ordered,” Enzo tells her. “Got the plumbing and such for their house turned back on.”

“Is Bonnie…”

“Going to meet up at the house, to check if there’s any hinky magic happening on that thing?” Enzo finishes her next question, with a nod to the shipping container. “Yep. Your plans are being followed to the letter, Gorgeous. It’ll work out.”

“I hope so,” Caroline mutters, as she brushes past him.

Kol’s slumped against a window, fast asleep. She’s honestly impressed with how well he’s kept up. There hadn’t been a lot of time for rest in the last few days, and though she and Enzo had done the bulk of the digging and physical labor, conditions in the cave that had housed Klaus had been rough, not to mention freezing.

She’d told Enzo not to mention anything about Elena, or her upcoming resurrection to Kol, and she finds she feels guilty about the lying by omission. But she’s a little afraid of what’ll happen when Kol finds out. Wonders if he’ll ever agree not to kill her. Caroline’s planning on offering help in restoring him to his usual form (hers mostly, if he’ll have it. She’s great at research, and hasn’t she proved to be resourceful? And maybe even Bonnie’s if she can convince her friend that it’s the right thing to do).

But that’s a problem for another day, one Caroline doesn’t relish tackling. She’d never believed that Elena had done the right thing, in killing Kol. And she hadn’t been consulted, had only had to try to make the best of the aftermath.

Had almost died, because of it.

Even if Kol had deserved to be killed, they knew nothing of the hundreds, possibly thousands of vampires who made up his line. Who’s to say that some of them weren’t just like Caroline, turned against their will, and just trying to _live_?

She can’t imagine how terrifying must it have been, to have felt perfectly fine, one moment, content in your near indestructability, and then to know that something was horribly, terribly wrong, as you took your last breath, with no idea why it was happening.

As much as Elena liked to think she was one of the good guys, that her actions were justified, Caroline knew that she wasn’t, that they weren’t always.

Maybe she’s grown up, maybe the distance has taught her that loyalty, the kind Caroline had offered up willingly but didn’t always receive in return, needed to be earned, but it’s hard for her to identify with Elena and The Salvatore’s, these days. She finds herself thinking of them as separate from her, whereas before she’d left the country she’s always thought of the group as united, as an us.

It might be a problem, in the coming days. One she’s not sure how she’ll handle.

Enzo slides into the seat next to her, buckles in tightly. Caroline presses her lips together, trying not to laugh, but glad for the distraction. Enzo wasn’t exactly fond of planes, especially the taking off and landing part.

She nudges her arm against his, “You’ll be fine. Flying’s safer then driving, you know.”

“Weren’t you just telling me I’m a terrible driver? What it this bloke’s a terrible pilot?”

The plane shudders, just for a moment, as it descends, and Enzo’s eyes widen, his hands clutching the armrests, “Well,” Caroline says breezily, facing forward, “guess it’s a good thing we’ll survive a crash then, isn’t it?”

“Not funny, Caroline,” Enzo says, teeth gritted.

Yeah, that had been kind of mean, Caroline realizes, taking in how stiffly he’s sitting. And Enzo had been great, these last few days. Caroline lays her hand over his, “I was kidding. The guy’s got an excellent safety rating. I totally checked.”

He eyes her suspiciously, before he relaxes, back into his seat, “I’m going to choose to believe you.”

“Me too,” Kol pipes up groggily. “Since I’m actually breakable, and I didn’t think to ask for a cup of blood before we left.”

“I did!” Caroline insists. They fall silent, as the plane dips, and it’s mostly smooth, only a few bumps as the plane comes to a stop on the tarmac. “See?” she says pointedly, “we’re all fine. Now grab your bags and let’s go. Pretty sure Klaus is gonna be pissed when he wakes up, so we might as well get _that_ over with.”

“And then it’ll be bloody, vengeful, fun times,” Kol says, sounding alarmingly cheery about it.

Caroline wrinkles her nose, but doesn’t comment. Because he’s probably right. At least about the bloody part.

* * *

 

Waking Klaus up turns out to be slightly more complicated, than Caroline had anticipated.

The coffin? Not so easy to open. It was welded shut, and they’d needed to hit a hardware store, since the Mikaelson’s weren’t exactly the type to have power tools lying about. Kol and Bonnie, being the least conspicuous had gone, and that had been nerve wracking for Caroline. She’d told herself that Bonnie was the more powerful, of the two, and that her friend could handle herself. That hadn’t stopped her from attacking the dust bunnies in the living room, to work out her anxiety, the whole time they were gone. But they both returned, quiet but with no obvious injuries between them.

Though Caroline did note a little tenseness, to Bonnie’s frame. And Kol seemed unusually satisfied. She’d need to press for details later.

Watching the lid being pried off the coffin Caroline had held her breath. She’d braced herself, expecting grey skin and black veins, for Klaus to look dead and lifeless.

But she’d been met with a solid block of concrete.

She’s cursed loudly, and with great feeling, without thinking about it, her stomach twisting into knots. She hoped he’d been out of it, before the concrete had been poured. She remembered suffocating, the panic and the pain, would not recommend it.

“The Home Depot’s going to love you two,” Damon had cracked, jarring everyone out of horrified silence.

Another trip had been made, for more supplies. And then it had taken hours of painstaking chiseling, before they’d begun to see a human form. Klaus’ body had been wrapped in chains, though his captors had been kind enough to place a bag over his head. Caroline brushed off what she could, once the worst of it was gone. His outer clothing was beyond tattered, by the time they were done, his skin purpled, under the grey, where the concrete had touched it. Little chunks and dust still clung to him. His hands and neck were the worst, bruised and raw looking.

“Where’s the biggest bathtub?” she’d asked Kol.

“Bekah’s room,” he’d answered absently, staring down at Klaus’ still form, clearly uncomfortable with the sight of Klaus so wrecked and helpless, almost fragile seeming.

Caroline totally got that.

“Help me with him?” she’d asked Enzo, nodding towards the stairs, and he’d obligingly moved to lift Klaus’ body.

Damon had smirked, his next words suggestive, “Gonna give the big bad a sponge bath, Barbie? Bet he’ll be sorry he missed that.”

And that was more than enough commentary for her.

Caroline flashed forward, until she was toe to toe with Damon, “You know what? You are, as usual, 1000 percent not helpful. Get out,” she demands. “Or I’ll let Klaus snack on you, instead of the blood bags you brought. If you hang on you can probably say good bye to Elena, before you die from the venom.”

And Caroline _means_ it, the words bitten out unyieldingly, her eyes daring him to push her. But Damon has always underestimated her. His smirk widens, grows patronizing, but Stefan mercifully steps forward, and pulls Damon away roughly, throwing, “Call me if you need anything, Care,” over his shoulder.

Caroline rubs a hand over her face, turns to Bonnie who’s been mostly silent, while they worked on Klaus. “You should go too. Take Kol. I think he’ll be weak, when he wakes up, but I don’t know how weak. If anything happened…”

She’s never been desiccated, has always been careful to get blood in a timely manner. It’s how she stays in control. But she imagines Klaus will be ravenous, and that Bonnie and Kol, the blood pumping through their living bodies, could be too much for him to resist, especially if he’s not entirely rational.

Kol looks like he’s going to protest, but Caroline holds up her hand, “Leave your number and I‘ll call you as soon as he’s conscious. I promise. But I really don’t want to have to explain to him that he accidentally ate his miraculously alive brother, on top of everything else, you know?”

He doesn’t look happy about it, but he turns to go, stopping to scribble something on a pad of paper. Bonnie gives her a hug, “I’ll check on Rebekah and Elijah, see if they’ve been moved, okay? You be careful.”

Caroline squeezes back, swallows past the lump that’s sprung up in her throat, “You’re the best, Bon.”

“I really am,” Bonnie agrees, making Caroline laugh.

She leaves with Kol, the two of them shooting wary looks at one another. Enzo heaves Klaus’ body over his shoulder, and Caroline winces, at the sight of his limp limbs. “Third floor, right?” Enzo asks, jerking his thumb towards the stairs.

Caroline nods, and steps past him, to lead the way. She enters Rebekah’s room, for the second time, and goes to fill up the huge sunken tub in the bathroom. To Enzo’s credit, he’s gentle, when he lowers Klaus into the shallow water, and Caroline rummages through the cupboards looking for some kind of soap. She finds a bar, dried out and cracked, and kind of flowery smelling, but it’s not like she has a better option. She kicks off her boots, and rolls her jeans, before she climbs in alongside Klaus, resting his back against her shins.

“Do you need my help with this part?” Enzo asks, leaning against the counter. Caroline smiles to herself. He’d do it, if she asked, but he sounds like he’d really rather not, and Caroline can’t say that she blames him. There’s no way for bathing an unconscious stranger to not be awkward.

“No, I’m good,” she tells him. “Can you go grab the coolers with the blood bags and bring them to his room? It’s the other one on this floor.”

Enzo nods agreeably, leaving the room on silent feet. Caroline’s grateful, both that he’s getting things ready, and that he won’t be around to witness this next part.

Because even though Klaus isn’t a stranger, she still feels really, really weird, about what she’s about to do. Caroline gets her hands wet, and rubs the soap between her fingers, until she’s managed a decent lather. Then she starts at Klaus’ neck, rubbing away the remaining grit, wincing as the more stubborn clumps, that are affixed to his skin, tear away. She pulls apart what remains of his clothes, keeps her eyes averted, as much as possible, as she works her way down. She’s uncomfortable, seeing Klaus like this, despite the fact that she’s already seen him naked.

His helplessness bothers her, the stillness of him, when in her mind he’s always been so very vivid and alive.

Caroline keeps her touch clinical, purposeful, until Klaus is clean, his skin free of debris. She fills the tub with clean water, to do a final rinse. The bathtub’s probably a lost cause, in the end, but Caroline can’t feel bad about that, as the water drains slowly away.

She leaves Klaus there, to go find towels. Grabs some sheets too, once she locates a linen closet. By the time she’s dried Klaus off, Enzo’s returned. Caroline manages a rough toga kind of thing, and together they get Klaus into his bed.

She tells Enzo to wait downstairs. She thinks it best if Klaus isn’t confronted with a strange vampire, upon waking in a weakened state.

The greyness of his skin looks even worse, against the whiteness of the pillow, and Caroline gingerly tips his head back, uses her thumb on his chin to pry his mouth open. She rips open a blood bag, dribbles a small amount into his mouth.

It’s a slow process at first, getting the blood in to him. She rubs his throat, to encourage it down, and it’s not until halfway through the fourth bag that his eyelids so much as twitch. He finally starts to actively swallow, after the fifth, and then he makes a noise, deep and confused and pained, before he forces his eyes open.

He blinks up at her, for several long moments, his body going rigid on the bed. He jerks, but Caroline easily keeps him down, with a hand on his chest, “Shh,” she murmurs, “it’s me. You’re fine. Mostly.”

His eyes sharpen, just a little, his hand reaching up and clamping shakily around her wrist, “Caroline?” he manages, his voice thin and rough.

She sits down next to him, once she’s thrown the empty blood bag aside, leans over to pile up some pillows and help him sit up. Annoyance flashes over his face, maybe a tinge of humiliation, but Caroline quickly grabs another bag and hands it to him, before he can dwell on it. Klaus bites into it himself this time, drains it quickly, “What happened?” he demands, sounding stronger, once he’s done.

“A lot,” Caroline tells him. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

His eyes narrow, his jaw clenching together angrily, “I remember that miserable upstart traitor telling me to enjoy my nap, as he forced a bag over my head.”

“That was a few years ago,” she tells him, gently.

“Years?” he grits out, “How many?

“Just over three,” Caroline answers anxiously.

Klaus’ eyes close briefly, rage overtaking his features, “Rebekah?” he asks. “Elijah? I assume they’re not alive and well, if I was left to rot for so long.”

Caroline finds herself reaching for his hand, his fingers sliding between hers, “I’m not sure. I assume they’re in much the same state you were.”

“Which was?” Klaus clips out.

“In a cave,” Caroline informs him. “In a casket, desiccated, chained, and covered in concrete.” She brings her fingers to his neck, where the chemical burns from the cement have just begun to fade, and Klaus winces, at the gentle touch. “Sorry,” she murmurs, dropping her hand back to the bed. “I washed it off, but you’ll need more blood to heal.”

He squeezes the hand he still holds gently, and she’s relieved that his strength seems to be slowly returning, “Don’t be, love. I had wondered just why I was naked, and damp. Sorry I missed the fun part,” he teases, a tiny smile peeking out of the corner of his mouth.

Caroline rolls her eyes, and hands him another blood bag, “I don’t know if you need this, since you seem to be mostly back to your old self. AKA creepy, and completely unaware of the correct time to attempt to flirt.”

Klaus takes a small sip, “Nonsense. Were it up to you, there’d have never been a correct time, would there?”

Caroline supposes he has a point.

She stays quiet, as Klaus finishes the bag, as he sits up straighter, and stretches his arms out. “I look forward to catching up with you, sweetheart, but I’m afraid there’s work to be done. I do believe I left some clothes here, when we left Mystic Falls. Are they still here?”

“Mostly. I stole a couple things so Bonnie could do the spell to find you.”

Klaus waves that away, unconcerned, “No matter. Let me dress, and then you can fill me in on how you came to find me, hmm? And I can find a witch, to help me find Rebekah and Elijah.”

“Actually, Bonnie’s already working on that,” Caroline tells him.

Klaus stills, his head tipping to the side, eyes zeroing in on her face, a coldness sneaking in, “Oh? And why is that? Why’d you come looking for me Caroline? Did you need something from me?” he asks, and the accusation is clear.

Caroline bristles, “I don’t _need_ anything from you. Damon did, but I’ve barely spoken to him in the last couple years, and I’m done being his bargaining chip. When I heard you’d been pushed out of New Orleans, when I heard you were just gone, I dug deeper.”

“Why?” Klaus asks again, more wary then upset now.

Caroline bites her lip, and averts her eyes, and pushes off the bed. The answer to his question is something she’s been wrestling with. “It’s kind of what I do, isn’t it?” she says finally, aiming for casualness. “My friends get themselves into a mess, I clean up.”

He makes a grab for her arm, the sheet he’s wearing slipping down his body. Caroline makes herself look away, though it’s more difficult, with him warm and breathing and so very present, in this room.

“Thank you,” he says simply.

Caroline meets his eyes, when she nods, accepting his gratitude, something she knows is rarely given, by Klaus, with a nod. His thumb is stroking the skin of her wrist, and she pulls it out of his grasp, before it can become distracting, “Have you had enough blood? I’m going to call Bonnie and um, another witch friend over, so we can figure out what we do next.”

She’s totally going to let Kol handle the, ‘Good news, brother! I’m alive’ thing. Mostly because she’s still sketchy on the details, and also because she thinks Kol’s enough of a drama queen to resent her stealing his thunder.

“’We?” Klaus asks softly, just before she leaves the room.

Caroline turns, her hand on the doorknob, watches him for a second. He’s still on the bed, still far too tempting, wearing just rapidly healing skin and musty sheets. He looks weary, but resolved, maybe a little hopeful, as he watches her. He’s not used to having anyone on his side, Caroline realizes. But he’s just going to have to adjust, because she’s in this now. Caroline nods resolutely. “Yes, we. I said clean, Klaus. Not half-ass tidy.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, “So you did, love. Let me shower properly. And dress, and then I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Sounds good,” Caroline murmurs. She’s just about to let herself out, when a thought occurs to her, “Oh, and my friend Enzo’s downstairs, just so you know. He was kind of vital to your rescue mission, so no killing him, okay? Even though he’s probably going to annoy you.”

“I will, of course, do my very best, Caroline,” Klaus murmurs, his eyes wide and far too innocent to be believable.

Caroline glares, not entirely satisfied, “No killing. Or biting, I mean it,” she tells Klaus sternly, before leaving the room.

She’s pretty sure a little neck snapping is likely, but she can deal with that. She can’t say she’s never been tempted.

Maybe she’ll tell Bonnie to bring more booze.

 


End file.
